


These are good meds...

by Psychopersonified



Series: Are we ever going to talk about this? [10]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Plot setup, Q's Ex, reaction to medicaton, sick! Q, some tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychopersonified/pseuds/Psychopersonified
Summary: Continuation of 'Triangle Sandwiches' in which Bond meets someone from Q's past and doesn't handle it as well as he should.Alistair (Q's-Ex) drops a bombshell. The Scooby gang reels.Q is high as a kite.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: Are we ever going to talk about this? [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763425
Comments: 15
Kudos: 129





	These are good meds...

**SIS Building - Lift (Morning)**

Monday after their short trip to Brussels. Q dropped him off at the entrance before proceeding to find parking underground. 

Bond had an early morning Ops meeting with one of their teams operating in Central Asia to run through their strategic plans. He’d been roped into helping other teams and the junior agents more often as of late. He wasn’t sure if this was Mallory’s way of hinting to him about his advancing years and usefulness in the field.

He’d chafed at it in the beginning. Until he realised the upside of this was that he got to spend more time at home. Q had implored him to shift his mindset - instead of looking at it as an insult to thinking of this as M’s way of giving him a dignified way of retiring from active field duty yet remaining in service in the future. It was kinder on the knees too. 

He catches the first lift and is met by Eve inside but when he turns around to punch the close button, he finds Tanner accompanied by Alistair wearing a visitor’s badge waiting to get on. 

Bond politely makes room for them to enter. It’s fairly early so no one else interrupts them the entire journey up to the ninth floor. The atmosphere inside the lift is unusually frosty and a clueless Tanner attempts to cut the tension by casually asking, “So… how was Brussels?”

“Excellent.” both men answer in unison.

—

**_:FLASHBACK:_ **

**Mariott Hotel - Brussels**

The hotel was predictably packed with conference attendees, being one of the few closest to NATO’s HQ. Alistair had booked three rooms, two adjoining ones, and one separate on another floor. Imagine his surprise when Bond answered the door when he’d come to knock looking for Q for their presentation run through. 

After the initial shock, he’d pretty much backed off for the remainder of the conference. But there was however the ‘team dinner’ that he had to contend with. Where he wasn’t quite so much invited as tolerated. 

He’d planted himself between the two senior members of the team. His presence discouraged conversation between Alistair and Q. So Q took to talking to the interns from NCSC instead, genuinely interested in the work they were doing for the agency. The conversation slipped into technical talk about how private enterprises could better protect themselves from threats and what the council could do to help bring awareness to the rising issues. 

Next to come by and invite himself to the table was Felix Leiter who was conveniently staying at the same hotel with the rest of his crew. After crashing and burning with trying to convince Q to share more of the Shadow Network, he’d turned his charms on Alistair hoping to have better luck with the other agency.

It suited Bond well enough as it meant he didn’t have to make polite conversation with the man. So he spent dinner catching bits of conversation from both sides of the table and attending to Q’s food and drink.

However Bond couldn’t help being a smug bastard at one point in the middle of dinner as they waited for the next course to be served - getting up to peruse the dessert display and purchasing an ornately wrapped gift box of selected Belgian chocolates and elaborate confectionary.

When he returned, he’d placed the box conspicuously next to Q and whispered in his ear that it was for _later_ \- making the younger man blush comely at both the suggestion and the public display. Then he’d waived the waiter over to ‘discretely’ order bottle of champagne to be delivered to their room later in the evening - fully aware of the attention the action garnered from the rest of the table. 

Well, he couldn’t be expected to be mature the _whole_ trip. 

He’d made good on his promise of _later_ that night. With his presentation over, Q finally had the headspace to relax and James was more than happy to assist in that area, indulging Q in whatever he asked for till close to midnight - taking particular pride in hearing his appellation used in pleasure repeatedly throughout the night. If Alistair heard them next door, he couldn’t care less. 

He was hoping he’d never have to deal with Alistair again after that - or at least have very little contact.

——

**SIS Building - Lift**

Ah... but here he is again at MI6 looking even more smug than ever. 

“The paper was very well received…” Alistair continues when Bond doesn’t add anything else. 

“In fact, our Technical Director was so impressed; she’s baffled as to why MI6 has such a talented boffin wasting away in the basement instead of handing him over to NCSC where his skills can be fully utilised—” 

“—Exploited you mean,” Bond corrects him. 

“Come now, is there any need to be over protective? After all, we’re all on the same side,” he chastises before continuing.

“If you care even a little about his career, you’ll see that he doesn’t have room to grow here,” Alistair doesn’t pull any punches. 

“That’s why I’m here. I’ve been given the go ahead to approach M to discuss a possible transfer for... _Collin_ over to us,” Alistair uses Q’s current name derisively. 

The news shocks the three of them in the lift. “What?” Eve interjects dangerously, stepping close to Alistair fully intending to get up into his face if it weren’t for Bond quickly stepping in her way. Tanner gapes speechless. Bond gives nothing away except for the twitching of a jaw muscle.

Alistair surveys the damage from his bombshell. _Hmm… Satisfactory._

“Does Q know about this?” Bond grinds out.

“Not yet. My Director General prefers I to speak to M first, professional courtesy you understand.”

“It’s still up to Q to decide if he wants the transfer,” Tanner says it to calm himself more than anything. 

“Oh... you’ll find that we can be quite persuasive in our negotiations. Besides I’m sure I can make a good enough case to get M to help me with my cause,” he smiles confidently. 

Still riding on their shock, Alistair goes for the jugular, “You can’t deny that Collin’s outgrown his little lab, tinkering away with his alphabet of elves on projects that will never see the light of day. Shame really. He could be drafting national policies, changing the landscape even influencing global cybersecurity protocols.”

Then a final twist of the knife, “I can see him taking over as Technical Director of the NCSC one day. What are _your_ plans for him?” 

*Ding* The lift stops at their floor. Alistair exits ahead of the rest, wearing an unrepentantly self satisfied smile - leaving them to lick their wounds. The other three stare at the back of his head reeling from the early morning news. 

“Prick,” Eve says it out loud before getting out of the lift. No one disagrees. 

——

**Pico’s Bar & Grill - Lunchtime**

Bond pushed aside the news to deal with Central Asia - the Taliban expanding poppy fields, local warlords fighting over antiquities smuggling trade and rumours about China funding a gas pipeline. It was not until just before lunch that he is reminded of it when he spots Q coming out of the lift to his floor. Bond watched as he bypassed the Ops Room to get to Mallory’s office. 

The four of them meet at Pico’s bar & grill across the road from their building for lunch (emergency Scooby by gang meeting). M had dismissed Tanner and Moneypenny early to speak with Q in private. So here they wait along with Bond, anxious for news. 

Q makes it after the food arrives, sliding into the seat next to Bond. 

“Well? What did M want to speak to you about?” 

Q bows his head, the wavy fringe falling over his eyes and sighs. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out an envelope with the NCSC logo emblazoned over it and tosses it into the middle of the table. Eve reaches for it, pulling it out and reads it to the rest. 

It is a letter of offer, extended to a one Collin Mitchel for the position of Senior Technical Advisor. Page two details the remuneration package and benefits he will be entitled to should he accept. 

Tanner whistles. “You’d be insane not to accept...,” then quickly adds, “...I mean based on the salary alone,” when he sees the daggers the other two send his way. 

“That’s what M said as well. He’s reluctant to let me go, but won’t stand in the way if that’s what I really want. He says he can’t make a counter offer anywhere near this.”

“Fucking Alistair! He orchestrated the whole thing,” Q laments in frustration.

Eve snaps her fingers, “The rumour about him wanting Hayden’s job, it was a diversion to get close to M, to gain his trust,” she realises in horror. 

“I say, if I had someone looking out for my career like this, I’d be thankful.” Tanner is confused with all the negativity. 

Eve curls her finger at him so that he leans closer. She gives him the bullet points: Alistair is Q’s ex, manipulative bastard, wants Q back, kissed him last week in Q-Branch. Tanner’s eyes grow wider with every passing sentence. 

“So he’s trying to _buy_ you back? By dangling all… (gesticulating over the letter) all this as incentive?” Tanner concludes, affronted on Q’s behalf. 

Q nods morosely into his lunch. He thought he would be rid of him after Brussels, but instead, he’d gone and upped the game. Like a stalker he can’t get rid of. It’s causing him no small amount of anxiety. 

Alistair isn’t someone to be trifled with politically. Ever since that evening that Alistair kissed him, he'd started recollecting past incidences where he’d glimpsed Alistair’s true character. Like, the time he’d sabotaged a rival researcher’s project as a ‘joke’ or the time he doxxed an unpopular professor whose criticism he didn’t appreciate because ‘she had it coming’. 

At the time Q didn’t think much about it. And though he’d never participated in them; he didn’t consider them particularly egregious flaws in character, partly because of the environment he was exposed to was so steeped with similar behaviours that it was considered minor infractions. 

Furthermore, his moral compass wasn’t fully developed yet and he was himself prone to sometimes being an insufferable jerk simply out of a sense of intellectual superiority. It wasn’t until he’d faced challenges of his own and seen first hand the ramifications to the lives of people around him that he realised that being a genius counts for nothing in the scheme of being a good person. 

So reassessing Alistair’s character using his current moral standards sends him into low level panic. The vindictive bastard usually gets what he wants.

Q clutches Bonds thigh under the table, stroking the immaculately pressed wool trousers to soothe his frazzled nerves. 

“What are you going to do?” Tanner asks fully concerned. 

“I don’t know. I’m open to suggestions. I never expected him to be this persistent. This…” he taps the envelope, “… is a honey trap. There is _no_ chance I’m taking it. But I’m sure he’s planned several moves ahead.”

They spend the rest of lunch brainstorming over what Alistair’s next move might be and how to head him off. 

At the end of lunch, Bond reaches out for Q’s glass intending to steal a sip as per his usual habit. Q quickly swipes it away, causing Bond to regard him like a kicked puppy. 

“Sorry. My throat is feeling scratchy, I think I might be coming down with something,” Q explains apologetically.

Bond slips a hand around the back of Q's neck and under the collar, feeling for his temperature. He makes a face, slightly warmer than usual. And now that he mentioned it, a little high colour on his cheeks. 

“You should see Dr Chen,” he tells Q. 

Q agrees, “I’ll see her after my 2 o’clock meeting. Oh! James, could you get me a box of tea before you head back? I think the one in my tin has gone off, it’s starting to taste funny.”

Odd, Bond thinks. Q went through so much tea that there shouldn’t be a chance that it would sit in the tin long enough to spoil. 

Bond nods anyway. Petting on the back of his head affectionately before letting him go. 

“Thanks. See you in a bit. I’ve got to head back now… If anyone has ideas on how to deal with Alistair, I’m all ears.” Q departs quickly to make his meeting. 

Tanner raises an eyebrow at Bond, “You know, when I set you two up for your first meeting, I knew there was a 50-50 chance one of you would end up killing the other or you’ll both end up shagging. I never expected he’d have you whipped as well.”

Eve snorts into her beer. Bond flips him off. 

——

**SIS Building - L5 Medical**

By the time 3pm rolls around, Q feels like shit warmed over. He’s feeling achy all over, his throat is on fire and his nose is stuffed. He’s running a temperature too. 

Dr Chen gives him some medication to control his fever and relieve his head cold but it makes him very drowsy so she keeps him for observation until Bond can come to collect him - and also to prevent him from working on any potentially lethal projects in the lab in his state. 

Bond meantime had returned with Q’s tea and taken the liberty of dumping out the old batch. In doing so, he’d noticed something unusual in the tea dust. The white powdery substance stood out starkly against the black bin liner. 

Curious, he tested it: Water soluble, with a slight bitterness - mould spores? He found a ziplock bag in the pantry and collected as much of the powder he could find before handing it to R for chemical analysis just as a precaution.

“Bed rest and no working on projects,” Dr Chen directs her orders at Bond. 

“Not even coding?” Q protests, slurring his words a little where he sits on the recovery bed. His hair hopelessly plastered to one side from his nap. 

“Not even coding,” she repeats it to him like he’s a slow child. Then to Bond, “He’ll be mortified by the number of bugs in his programming once he’s out of it." 

“And these are his meds, instructions inside,” she hands him the bag of pills and syrups. 

“Those the good stuff?…” Q makes grabby hands for it only for it to be pulled out of his reach by Bond.

“Yes sweetie, but you’ll have to listen to James alright? Then he’ll let you have the good stuff,” Dr Chen reminds him. 

Then to Bond she warns, “I’ve been his doctor since he started here. He has a notorious reaction to these things. So don’t let him have too much of it. I’m putting you down as his primary caregiver so if anything happens, I’m coming after you. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” Bond knows not to trifle with the women in Q’s life. 

——

**SIS Building - P4 Carpark**

“God… it’s like swimming through honey.” Q mimes the breaststroke as Bond leads him out of the lift to the underground garage. 

Notorious reaction indeed. The usually reserved quartermaster had cheerily greeted everyone who might have accidentally made eye contact - which is not socially acceptable London behaviour. 

That included the slightly off-kilter, silver-haired, sharp-tongued 001 whom they met in the lift. She’d taken one look at him and gone straight to the point, “What’s the matter with him? Is he broken?” 

Bond just gives her a pained smile. 

“It’s not contagious is it?” she steps aside to put more distance between them. 

“Still as sympathetic as ever, I see,” Bond deadpans. 

She mimes retching and throwing up in a dramatic fashion, then in the next instant puts herself back together and steps out of the lift gracefully. 

_What a supportive team of Double-0s we have…_

Suddenly Q calls out in panic, “James! James! My maths... it's gone! I can’t remember the formula to calculate the trajectory of a projectile shot from a moving object!”

“Yes… you and everyone else,” Bond grouses under his breath as he straps Q into the car. 

“Oh no…nonono. I’m stupid like everyone else? I can’t be quartermaster if I’m stupid. I’m going to lose my job. I can’t lose my job. I have a mortgage… and two cats to feed!” Q’s logic spirals out of control. 

“Nice to know that’s what you really think of the rest of us mortals.” Bond mumbles. 

“Wut?”

“Nothing. Comfy?” Bond does a final check before turning on the engine. 

“Cold.”

“Very cold or just cold?” Q has on at least four layers of clothing. 

“Just cold,” that’s how Bond knows Q is still high as a kite. He’d never use such an arbitrary unit of measurement in his normal state. 

“You’ll be fine.” He throws the car into reverse. 

“James!” Q yells out grasping his arm tightly.

The car jerks to a stop. “What?!” Bond nearly had a heart attack. 

“My glasses! I can’t feel my glasses.”

Bond sighs. He reaches over to pull Q’s glasses off his face and presents it back to him. 

“Ta!” Q retrieves his glasses and puts them back on. “I still can’t feel them… I can’t feel my face actually.” He giggles, “Oh man these meds are good!”

——— FIN ——

The events here lead directly to the Kidnapped!Q series. Chronologically the next story is [“ETA 8 Minutes…”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253523/chapters/55682581)

If you came here from the Kidnapped!Q series - "The Chase", continue on with the adventure with ["The Search"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25180972).

**Author's Note:**

> 001 is based on Emma Thompson in many of her characters. Particularly Late Night and Johnny English.


End file.
